Shadows
by But Seriously Im Batman
Summary: Allison deals with her shadows.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm really bored, and this is an idea that popped into my head so… yeah. Haha. Somehow inspired by Sweater Weather by The NBHD. I do not own that song and I do not own Teen Wolf. Sorry if the spacing is weird, I just got a MacBook and I don't have Word yet so I'm using Pages to write but, Pages isn't compatible with FF for some reason (-_-) so I have to transfer it to Text Edit and the spacing gets messed up. **

Allison always delighted in the feeling Scott gave her. Like she was actually loved. She knew he was a werewolf but she loved him anyway. And there was something about the thrilling sense of danger when he snuck into her window in the middle of the night to see her.

They both laughed quietly against each other's lips, his hands on her waist and hers around his neck. He closed the space between them, kissing her smoothly and sweetly. Yeah, she _definitely _felt loved.

They both hear the closing of the door down stairs and sprung apart. Her father was home early. Allison peered out the window and cursed under her breath as she spotted Chris's vehicle; confirming he was home. She looked back at Scott and nodded, silently telling him it was time to leave.

He sighed and moved to kiss her one more time before leaving through the window in which he came. He smiled at her, and she felt like no matter what, or who tried to keep them apart, they'd always find each other; always be in each others' arms.

She watched as Scott climbed down the house and disappeared into the forest. She sighed, and wished that, even thought they loved each other, they could be together openly without fear of her father and his followers killing Scott.

After a few minutes of just staring at the spot Scott ran off in, Allison turned and made her way to her desk where a pile of homework was waiting for her. She picked up her mechanical pencil and winced as it broke when she pressed it to the page.

Sighing, she pulled an ink pen from her bottom left drawer. She smiled when she saw the picture of herself and Scott that had been taped to the bottom. She had forgotten about that picture. She was looking away blushing and smiling while Scott had his arm around her shoulders, a large goofy grin placed on his face as he leaned towards Allison with his tongue out pretending to lick her.

Out of all the pictures they had taken, she liked this one the most. It showed her eyes full of life and pure happiness.

The wind picked up suddenly, howling as it rushed past her still open window. It began to go faster and faster, spinning the leaves in her yard in a spiral. Allison dropped her pen and walked slowly to the window. She then slammed it shut as quickly as possible. The looked down and saw the leaves had stopped swirling.

She opened the window and heard nothing. She slowly walked back to her desk and tried to focus on her paperwork. But then she heard it. A voice, no, multiple voices speaking as one, hushed whisper: _Allison._

_ Allison. _ The A in her name is drug out, and the voices sound breathy.

_Allison, Allison, Allison._

It is coming from her window. She rushed back over and looked out, terrified at what she saw. Scott.

Scott McCall. On his knees, with a figure behind him holding his face up by the chin. More figures swirled around him. The figures were just that: figures.

She ran down the stairs and out her front door. She stopped as soon as she came close to the figures. They were three-dimensional shadows. They had the thickness and features of humans but that was it. No face, no clothing, just swirling darkness.

Around the edges of their forms, their edges were unstable; misty and explosive like solar flares but, of darkness. They stopped rotating suddenly, making a pathway to Scott and their leader.

Allison bit down a sob, and ran at Scott. The leader's "face" opened up to reveal a deathly white, sharp-teethed smile. Nothing else, no eyes, just the smile.

And then it happened: he slit Scott's throat. Allison faintly remembered screaming and as soon as Scott's lifeless head hit the ground…

Allison Argent woke up in her bed, sweating.


	2. Chapter 2

She was running, lungs burning as she sucked in the cold air. The damp ground squelched beneath her feet as she ran. She could hear the heavy, deep breathing of a wolf as it chased her.

An actual wolf, hunting her; how ironic. Her boyfriend _was _a werewolf. Scott is a werewolf, just not her boyfriend anymore; he broke up with her after catching her with Isaac. She was broken beyond repair and realized her mistake immediately.

He had moved on already, which added to her heartache. Tears fell down her face as a sob ripped itself from her body. The wolf had gotten closer in her temporary memory lapse. Her feet were numb from the cold, and bleeding from her lack of shoes.

She didn't care. All she cared about was getting away; away from the wolf, away from Scott and his little _whore_,away from Beacon Hills.

Another sob tore through her ribcage, her left hand coming to clasp at her chest trying to ease the ache the cold air had brought.

Briars and thorns from the wilderness scratched at legs and arms until she had an array of cuts and scratches across her once flawless skin.

She tripped over a tree root and fell, slamming her face into the cold earth below her. She scrambled, trying desperately to get back up and run, to get away from the monster chasing her and to safety.

Her heart ached when she thought of safety; that thought was usually tied in with Scott.

She finally got back up and ran, as fast as her worn out, cut up, and burning legs would take her.

Then she stopped. She realized: _I am a _hunter_, a survivor. I hunt them; not the other way around._

She turned and felt the adrenaline fill her veins as her face lost any traces of desperation or sadness. Her face filled with determination as she faced the red eyes of the wolf.

The wolf's eyes glowed, and it paused; regarding her for stopping and facing it head-on. The wolf stayed put as Allison walked forward, fearlessly, and stared the wolf in the eye.

She reached out and touched the wolf on its head, right between the eyes. Its eyes began to swirl with a purple color, loosing its redness, and kept swirling until the eyes were blue.

She had realized that the wolf wasn't actually a wolf; it was the symbolization of her stress and her worries in her life; all her shadows. A tiny, minuscule smile formed on her face as she looked at the wolf.

Then she snapped its neck.


	3. Chapter 3

Howling wind, leaves swirling, hair slapping her face; these are things that Allison does not notice. Things that, if noticed, would mean nothing anyway.

The only thing that she was focused on was Scott. Scott and Angela. Angela had just moved here from Washington State. She was the exact opposite of Allison: blonde hair, blue eyes, about five foot-ten inches (Scott's height).

That detail really bothered Allison; she'd always wanted to be the same height as Scott, she was dominant like that.

The big detail: the unlikeness between Angela and Allison bothers her as well. How could Scott pick one girl, and then another the complete opposite?

Allison swallows thickly as she realizes she's been staring at them.

Scott smiles at Angela as she clings to his arm, using it as a support as she laughs at something that he's said. Scott tenses suddenly, sensing that someone is staring at him.

Allison immediately drops her gaze as Scott looks around the area in which he is standing. After thoroughly searching the area, he shrugs, turns back to Angela and leads her through the lunch crowd.

A tear slides down Allison's cheek as she watches them walk away. She sighs before returning to the main building, getting ready for her first after-lunch class.

"You do realize that you're painfully obvious, right?"

Allison whirls around to face the one, the only: Stiles. She looks at him, eyes wide and unblinking, as they trail quickly from his face to the doorway he's standing in, and back again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Stiles," she says.

"The hell you don't! You still love Scott, he doesn't know it, but if you keep glaring at him and Angela, he'll find out."

Allison doesn't know what to say.

"Look, I dislike the skank just as much as you do; and while we can't tell Scott what to do, maybe we can scare her off," Stiles continues, grinning.

Allison grins right back.

"I have a few extra blunt-tipped arrows that I can stand to loose."

Allison breathes steadily as she watches Stiles lure Angela into position. The plan is to shoot a few arrows at her, claim it's Scott, and make her run in terror with a few bruises here and there.

Angela walks into the clearing along with Stiles. Allison pulls back the arrow, aiming for her stomach and releases.

All of a sudden, the arrow changes its trajectory, heading for Angela's throat. The blunt tip she had made sure was screwed on the end of the arrow had changed into a five-pronged, sharp edged arrowhead.

Allison watched in horror as the arrow embedded itself in Angela's throat; blood spurting forth all over Stiles. Stiles looks up at Allison in repulsion and disgust.

"What. Have. You. _DONE_?" Allison spins to see an enraged Scott staring at her with yellow eyes.

He charges at her and picks her up by the throat, choking her, and bringing her feet a goo foot and a half off the ground.

Stiles had climbed the hill while she wasn't watching and was now behind her.

"You're a monster, Allison." Stiles walks forward calmly and runs a knife, which came from nowhere, through her ribcage.

She gasps as she feels the hot blood run down her side. The edges of her vision go black and soon she's shrouded in darkness.

She wakes up screaming. This was the fifth time this week since the incident with the wolf. After she had snapped the animal's neck, she felt empowered and ran all night until the morning when she stumbled home.

Allison looks over to her nightstand where the framed picture she found in her desk now sits. She sighs, grabs another sleeping pill her doctor had prescribed, and fell back into a nightmare-induced sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Allison walks away from the school, heading towards her car. Taking out her keys and hitting the unlock button, she throws her bag in the backseat.

She turns and looks around her, scanning the area. She feels uneasy but shakes it off, slipping into her car and starts the engine. After checking her phone for any messages, she looks up and gasps.

In the rearview mirror stands a man staring at her. From the distance he's at, she shouldn't be able to see his eye color. But she does. Piercing blue eyes stare back at her.

She takes in every detail to remember him: jet-black hair; startling, icy-blue eyes; broad shoulders, tapering to a thin waist. He was the perfect man.

But Allison knows better.

She turns around to look out her back windshield and see he is still there. She quickly pushes the gearshift into reverse and drives from the school as fast as legally permitted… maybe even a little faster.

After reaching her home, she runs upstairs to her room and shuts and locks the door. She leans against it and sighs. _Maybe I'm just paranoid… _she thinks.

She hears something snap outside her open window and jerks her head up to see what it is.

She races to her window and gasps when she sees the same man from the school parking lot in her yard.

She quickly turns to her bed and pulls out a case from underneath it. Unlatching the locks, she retrieves her bow and some arrows.

She positions herself back at her window and pulls back the string of the bow, aiming at the grinning man. As soon as she releases the arrow, the man is gone.

Her eyes widen as a voice appears behind her. She stares straight forward as he speaks in a calm, casual voice.

"That was pretty fun, wasn't it?"

His voice sounds a lot older than what he appears to be, but somehow contains a youthful quality.

"Who are you?"

She can _feel _his smile. He leans in closer and begins speaking.

"I'm special, is what I am. I am here to _end _Beacon Hills's… _paranormal _state. I've been around _quite _a while, dear. And I've watched this little town flourish with monsters. Disgusting, really."

"_Who are you_?"

"A persistent little thing aren't you? Very well, I shall tell you my name. It is Dema Chiant. Or, as your language would put it: cleanser."

"Okay. Next question: _what _are you? No one can move that fast, not even a—"

"A what? A werewolf? They're incompetent beings anyway. I am much more advanced than they are. I think you already know what I am."

"No. Th-that's not possible."

"Really? You're playing the 'that's not possible' card? Think about it. There are werewolves, demons, kanimas, and hunters. What are we leaving out? The werewolf's natural enemy"

He pauses, drawing out the silence before continuing:

"Vampires"

"So, what are your plans? Turn everyone into a vampire?"

Dema spins her around to finally face him and scowls at her. "Of course not! That's ludicrous!"

"We'll stop you. You might as well leave now, I can't promise that you'll survive."

He has the _audacity _to chuckle at her. He levels his gaze with hers.

"You really don't get it do you? Vampires _can't _die. Everything you've heard of us is wrong. Sunlight doesn't incinerate us; we don't die after being staked in the heart. We are truly immortal. You can cut us limb from limb, burn the remains, and we will rise from the ashes."

"Well then why isn't the world overrun by vampires? If every one of you lives literally _forever_, then when your numbers increase, you should infect everyone? Right?"

Dema looks a little surprised.

"You know, you're the first mortal to actually pick up on that. After we reached a substantial population, my father, Alucard, put a curse on all vampires. Now our poison is just that: poison. He is the only one to infect mortals to make them a vampire. I don't know if you've gotten the point or not so I'll clarify it for you: You can't stop me. _Voi cur__ăț__a ora__ș__ul de impuritate_. Starting, with the ones you cherish most."

As he finishes his promise, he gives a pointed look out Allison's window. She spins around to see Scott pulling up in her driveway.

Terror floods through her as she turns back to negotiate with Dema, only to find him gone.

Allison Argent knows that she, and her friends, are in a lot of trouble now.


End file.
